Decision

I haven’t posted in a few days because I needed time to think about how public I wanted to be during the rest of this challenge. I wrote, but it was in my journal instead of on my blog. My posts have been very open about my past struggle with depression and anxiety. I have also been very honest that last week was hard. I could feel myself teetering on the edge of depression and I was treading water like crazy. After some strange interactions and comments (which I deleted) I was left wondering if maybe I’d been too honest. Maybe I was leaving myself open to self doubt and lots of unnecessary criticism. The last thing I wanted was to start a challenge with the intention of lifting others up only to tear myself down. 

As of this morning I had every intention of making a post stating that I’d be completing the Write31 challenge privately. Then two things happened. The first was a sweet comment made by my friend Holly. She took the time to let me know how my honesty had affected her personally and her family. Her words took my breath away. The second was a brave post made by my friend Michelle. She shared an incredibly vulnerable and beautiful part of herself. I’m not insinuating that I had anything to do with Michelle’s post. Her bravey comes from within her. What these two friends did was reignite my passion for honesty and transparency. 

 I have struggles just like everyone else and two of mine just happen to be depression and anxiety. They aren’t my fault. I didn’t choose or cause them. In the same vain I can’t completely fix them. I can control the symptoms, but there will be ebbs and flows. Last week was a valley. This week is better. I can speculate as to why, but I won’t ever really know. Honestly at this point in my journey I don’t care what the reason is. What matters is that I can recognize when I need to be gentle with myself and that I can start to see glimpses of ME soon. 

I have never hidden my struggles. Even when I was embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t up to getting out again. Even when I couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone or reply to the text again. Even when a friend snaps “you’re always in a funk” when I make apologies for not being able to attend another function. Even when one of the first sentences my two year old says is “Mommy’s crying again”. Even when the new antidepressants make me so anxious the only place I can stand to be is in my closet. Even when I lose 30 pounds in a month because the other new antidepressants makes me so sick I cannot fathom eating even one single bite of food. I have always owned who I am. I’m not changing that. This is me. To know me is to know ME. I don’t censor.  I don’t filter. 

I’m going to keep posting on my blog. To choose not to would be inauthentic. 

There is a special kind of freedom that comes from vulnerablity. I don’t have to keep up appearances or remember what excuses I made. That all seems so exhausting. I just have to be me, in all my imperfect, passionate, joyful, honest glory.